


Oh, Burn!

by negasonicteenageimagines (nostalgicstrawberry)



Category: Deadpool (Movieverse), Deadpool - All Media Types, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-07 02:06:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18863539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nostalgicstrawberry/pseuds/negasonicteenageimagines
Summary: Ellie has a bit of an...accident, with her powers. You end up hurt, and while you don’t blame her, will she be able to forgive herself for the pain she’s caused?





	Oh, Burn!

“I can’t believe it, you were just  _letting_  her flirt with you!”

“Ellie, she was just being nice!”

“ _Bullshit!_  Have you looked in a mirror? There’s no such thing as ‘ _just being nice’_  when it comes to you! Any excuse to touch you, your stance, your wrists, even though they were just  _fucking_  fine, she claimed to want to help you perfect them. And you just let her, knowing damn well that it would be fine!”

“The purpose of training is to get better, whether I’m ‘ _just fine’_ or not!” You take a few breaths, trying to relax and not add fuel to the fire before continuing: “Ellie, you need to calm down…” You tell her, tentatively putting your hands on her already unnaturally hot shoulders. Any moment, she’d start smoking, and-

“No!” she shouts back, a small burst of energy enough to take you off your feet and away a yard or two, into the wall. She looks at you, shocked. “Oh god… Y/N, I didn’t mean to-”

You nod, smiling softly despite the searing pain in your hands, which you’re holding palm-up in hopes that the cool air will help at least a little.

“I know,” you reply meekly, and she hesitantly steps closer, looking at your hands.

“We gotta get you to the nurse,” she says, going to take your wrist to lead you, but you twitch away instinctively.

Her lip quivers, and her eyes widen as she blinks away tears. Of all the people she’d ever met or would come to meet in the future, you were the only one she’d never wanted to be afraid of her, not even a little bit.

And now you are.

“I’m so sorry,” she says softly, voice trembling.

“It’s okay, but can you  _please_ -?” Your voice squeaks, and she remembers not to be such a self-centered teen.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” she responds gently, and the two of you walk to the infirmary.

“Oh god, Y/N, what happened?!” Nurse Annie asks, seeing your burns.  
  


“I- I-” Ellie starts, and Annie guides her to a chair, where she sits with her face in her hands. She pulls back, looks at said hands, and then to yours, and then buries her face in her hands again.

“Well, it looks like it’s just a first degree burn, not as bad as it could’ve been,” the nurse reassures. “Let’s soak it in some cool water for about five minutes, and then apply an antibiotic ointment and put on some gauze. If it hurts badly enough after, you can apply some pure aloe vera gel and take some ibuprofen. Sound good?”  
  


You nod, and she gets a large bowl, filling it with water and placing it on the side table, which she rolls in front of you. You carefully place your hands in, twinging at the sudden cold.

A student stumbles in with a bloody, possibly broken nose.   
  


“You’ll be okay, right?”

You nod, and Ellie plods over, pulling her chair along.

“What is this,  _Pitch Perfect_?” you ask, and she snorts before she forgets that she’s not supposed to smile yet, at least in her own book.

“I’m not leaving,” she instead says.

“Yeah, but the chair dragging- Whatever. It’s gonna be okay, okay? It’s just a first degree burn. It’ll heal up in like, what, a week?”  
  


“It’s a first degree burn that _I_ caused,” she disagrees, as stubborn as earlier and as always.

“By accident. I swear this is hurting you more than it is me,” you snicker. Sure, it stung, it stung (and burned, and  _hurt_ ) quite a bit, but it’s liveable. Ellie looks ready to die. “Stop being so melodramatic, I’m not  _that_  fragile.”

“But I should treat you like you are. I- You weren’t even- People can be nice to you. You deserve kindness, especially considering you’re stuck with an emotionally stunted  _bitch_  of a girlfriend like me.”

“Ellie, you’re not- Please.”

“I’m not helping, I know, I- Why can’t I just be good to you?”

“You are! You help me study, you look out for me when I really am being naive, you give me lots of support, you’re wonderful. Please, don’t let this mistake define how you see yourself. If you want to be good to me,  _please_  be good to yourself,” you tell her, but she looks at you, doubt painted on her face the way black liquid lipstick is on her lips: perfect, obvious, and perfectly obvious.

“It’ll make me really happy…” you add.

She sighs, smiling a little in the ghostly way where only someone who knew her would know she was pleased.

“I’m still getting you aloe vera from the store, you’re not paying for it. Same with the ibuprofen.”

You know not to argue with her on that one.

You smile a little back.


End file.
